The King's Revenge
by Alcaknight
Summary: What if the King in the North survived? Having fled the red wedding Robb starts to plot his revenge, starting with Walder Frey. Not sure whether to continue or not, but thanks for reading.


Walder Frey looked at Robb with an amused expression. He took a sip from his flagon of wine, which dripped from his lips as he tried to hold back his laughter. Robb could still feel the warmth of Talisa's body. He might have thought her only asleep. He wanted to believe she would wake up any moment.

"Talisa…"

He wished that he could have lay there forever — he would have happily died at Talisa's side. Without her, he may as well have been dead already. But it wasn't over yet. His mother stood across the other end of the room, holding Walder Frey's wife by her hair and pointing a kitchen knife towards her throat. He willed himself to stand. Several arrows had pierced his body yet the pain seemed almost trivial.

"Let this end!" Catelyn demanded, poking at the girl's throat until the knife was stained with scarlet blood, "on my honour as a Tully and a Stark. Let him go and we will take no vengeance."

"And why would I do that?" asked Walder Frey, who took another sip from his flagon.

Catelyn pressed the knife even harder against the girl's throat.

"Let him go, and she lives."

Walder Frey shrugged nonchalantly and clicked his fingers.

"I'll find another."

A figure suddenly obscured Robb's view. It took him a moment to identify the man as Roose Bolton. Before he had time to react, Roose swiftly drew a dagger and pressed it against his chest. He shivered at the cold steel.

"The Lannisters send their regards."

Roose Bolton drew back the dagger and thrust it towards Robb's chest. He hadn't noticed Grey Wind approaching from the door. Its teeth were bloody; a similar colour to its fur which had been stained in a deep scarlet. Several men chased after it, but it was no use. The creature was too fast, and before anyone had time to react, it leaped high into the air and clamped down on Roose Bolton's arm, chewing through his chainmail like paper.

He cursed as he tried to kick the creature away. It was futile. The direwolf was swift and dodged easily, then leaped towards a nearby soldier and tore half of his throat out. In the confusion, a stray arrow from one of the archers had missed its target, and instead buried itself in Catelyn's chest. She could not see clearly — she assumed her son already dead and slid the knife across the girl's throat, causing her to instantly collapse onto the floor as a small river of blood seeped into the floor

"You bitch!"

One of the soldiers had sneaked up behind her and thrust his sword through her back. Robb peered through the crowd and watched as her body came crashing down against the floor. He might have yelled had he not been rendered speechless by shock. He felt as though at this point, death would be a blessing. He knew that his wish would soon be granted. Across the other side of the room, Roose Bolton had picked up a crossbow from one of the dead guards, and aimed directly for Robb's chest. He didn't attempt to dodge, but when the arrow came flying towards him, Grey Wind leaped forward and tried to push him away. Instead, the arrow became lodged in Grey Wind's side. Robb snapped out of it just soon enough to back out of the room, and slip through the door while Walder Frey's men warily approached the wolf.

"Is it dead?" one of the soldiers asked, poking it with his sword.

Walder Frey stood up from his chair and snatched the crossbow from Roose Bolton, then fired an arrow directly into its skull.

"It is now."

"My lord, I'll pursue Robb Stark immediately. He can't have gone far," said Roose Bolton as he beckoned to several of his men.

"No need. With those injuries, I doubt he'll last the night. Still, send one or two men to make sure."

Robb ran as far as he could, and swore to himself that he wouldn't look back. Walder Frey had taken everything. His wife, his unborn child, his mother, even Grey Wind. He would have accepted his fate there and then — but it would have been an insult to his family if he had given up so easily.

His limbs ached with a white hot pain and his shirt had been soaked in so much blood he could hardly tell where he was bleeding. Where could he escape to? He did not know how far Walder Frey's influence ran through Riverrun. House Mooton had always been faithful to the Tully's. Maidenpool might have been the safest option, though it would take several days travel.

He soon came by a small stream through a clearing in the forest. He took his shirt off and massaged his body with the cool water. Several arrows still pierced his shoulder, and he knew he would have to remove them soon. However, the prospect did not frighten him. He felt as though fear was not an emotion he could afford. Instead, his thoughts wandered to Walder Frey, and how he could possibly make him suffer as much as he had done.


End file.
